07-18-2018, 05:34 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Tendrils of emerald grass tremble before the oncoming form of a petite wolf. Bright eyes the color of moondust peer curiously through the shivering blades, attempting to discern the situation from a cautious distance. Smoke hangs in the air, although it does not originate from an open flame. No, it carries with it the stench of acrid chemicals. A cigarette. It is this smell which lured the argentine huntress here. Although it is quite horrid to breathe in, Imperia cannot help but investigate. Calloused paws make nary a sound as the delicate she-wolf creeps ever closer, slender frame lowered close to the ground so not to draw too much attention to herself. As she draws near enough to identify the forms of Suiteheart, Caboose, Elon, Washington, and a stranger, another smell begins tickling her nose. Not that of the lush plains or the rich soil underfoot. Not the distant aroma of rains or salt on the air as is blows in from the sea. It's is blood. Her mouth begins to water against her will, appealing to her most primal of senses.
Unable to resist the urge to investigate any longer, Peri emerges from the cover of the plains, stepping quietly beside the hulking figure of Agent Washington. It is a defensive reflex. This stranger--this blood-stained stranger who smells of cigarettes--is quite the intimidating creature. Those eyes and that smell...it reminds her of her father. And what a horrible creature Pierre is. Imperia cannot help the instinct to hover near someone she respects, someone strong. Unlike the grass, the young female does not tremble; but there is fear in her heart. Fear that is only overcome by her genuine desire to get along with others. A gentle smile graces her lovely visage in an attempt to remain friendly. Tension and distrust hang heavy in the air, causing the meek creature to stir. She shifts her weight, glancing upwards at Wash's helmet. She can see her distorted reflection gazing back at her--it is not nearly as comforting as she would have hoped.
Unable to resist the urge to investigate any longer, Peri emerges from the cover of the plains, stepping quietly beside the hulking figure of Agent Washington. It is a defensive reflex. This stranger--this blood-stained stranger who smells of cigarettes--is quite the intimidating creature. Those eyes and that smell...it reminds her of her father. And what a horrible creature Pierre is. Imperia cannot help the instinct to hover near someone she respects, someone strong. Unlike the grass, the young female does not tremble; but there is fear in her heart. Fear that is only overcome by her genuine desire to get along with others. A gentle smile graces her lovely visage in an attempt to remain friendly. Tension and distrust hang heavy in the air, causing the meek creature to stir. She shifts her weight, glancing upwards at Wash's helmet. She can see her distorted reflection gazing back at her--it is not nearly as comforting as she would have hoped.